


my hands were made to hold you

by ShitabuKenjirou



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Rated teen for swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:27:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28578237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShitabuKenjirou/pseuds/ShitabuKenjirou
Summary: Kenjirou may or may not have fudged up his chances of playing in the upcoming Spring Tournament. And he may or may not need his boyfriend's support to come to terms with it.
Relationships: Shirabu Kenjirou/Yahaba Shigeru
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	my hands were made to hold you

**Author's Note:**

> another entry for rarepair week in which i picked the prompts "hurt/comfort" so. yeah
> 
> this is written in the span of one afternoon & evening and at the time of me typing this i don't know what words are anymore pls take mercy on me /hj

**[12:38] Kenjirou:** can you meet me at our place after school?

The message was etched in the walls of Shigeru’s mind by now, but he kept checking his phone to read it again anyway. A soft autumn breeze ruffled his hair as he walked the gravel pathways winding through the quaint park, situated about equal distances away from Aoba Johsai High and Shiratorizawa Academy. It wouldn’t be long until all the foliage around him finished colouring yellow and red and orange, and a handful of trees had already started shedding their leaves. It was warm for October; Shigeru shrugged off his track jacket and tied it around his waist. 

The spot Kenjirou referred to as “our place” was a bench tucked under the sprawling branches of an old maple tree. They had spent many summer afternoons hiding in the shade of its canopy, sharing treats and bottles of water and laughter, until meeting there felt as natural as breathing. Often they found each other there by coincidence, as if the old bench was a magnet drawing them both towards it, and they would sit huddled in each other’s company until one of them had to leave.

It was an oasis amidst tests and college prep and the rollercoaster ride of being captain of Aoba Johsai’s boys volleyball team, and Shigeru would often gravitate towards that bench even if he knew Kenjirou wouldn’t be waiting for him there. The time alone was usually just as refreshing. 

Usually Shigeru spent the twenty minutes it took to reach the park nearly skipping out of excitement or lost in thought, but this time that message gnawed at his stomach. Something about it felt off -- Kenjirou was usually the kind of person to make demands rather than requests, and he would often just show up instead of asking Shigeru to meet him there.But, knowing himself, his mind was probably running in circles over nothing for the upteenth time; Shigeru forced himself to breathe deeply, blowing out his nerves with each exhale. 

Kenjirou didn’t look up as Shigeru approached, despite the crunch of the gravel underneath Shigeru’s shoes announcing his arrival clearly. He was leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, the white blazer of his school uniform draped around his shoulders. His face was blank, his gaze far away. 

“Hey,” Shigeru said softly.

Kenjirou turned toward him, blinking as he dragged his conscience back to reality. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He gave Shigeru a halfhearted smile and looked away again.

Shigeru’s heart nose-dived towards the center of the earth. “What’s wrong?”

Kenjirou dragged in a breath and sat up a little straighter. His fingers reached for the edge of his jacket to pull it around him a little tighter, and only then did Shigeru notice the black sturdy fabric enveloping Kenjirou’s right lower arm, and something white peeking out underneath, covering his hand up to his knuckles.

A brace, held up by a sling.

“What happened?” Shigeru breathed. He sat down next to Kenjirou and reached for his uninjured hand. Kenjirou pulled it away. 

“Something incredibly stupid, that’s what,” Kenjirou muttered.

Shigeru waited silently, trying to catch Kenjirou’s gaze. Kenjirou pointedly looked at anything but him.

“I overslept,” Kenjirou sighed eventually. “By then classes had already started, so I got ready as quickly as I could. I was running down the stairwell of the dorm building when, well…”

Shigeru lifted his hand to gently rub Kenjirou’s back. After an initial flinch, Kenjirou let him. 

“I don’t even know how the fuck it happened. My foot caught on something or I tripped or I simply misstepped--”

Kenjirou cut himself off, chewing on his bottom lip. Underneath this aloof mask his words carried so much frustration; it rippled off him in waves and buried itself in Shigeru’s chest.

“I-- I guess my wrist broke when I tried to catch myself,” Kenjirou finished, slightly raising his right arm in emphasis. “I’m staring down at least six weeks of immobility.” 

“Kenjirou, I’m s--”

“Don’t fucking say it.” Kenjirou’s voice was low but razor-sharp. “Don’t you dare fucking say it.”

Shigeru slowly removed his hand from Kenjirou’s back. 

“I--I mean, it’s kind of a blessing in disguise, actually,” Kenjirou went on, a few strained chuckles slipping from his lips. “I can finally sleep in because morning practice is out of the question, and I’ll have more time for homework--”

Kenjirou’s voice got stuck in his throat as tears rolled down his cheeks. “Which I definitely need now that I can’t even fucking write.” He sniffed and used his free hand to roughly wipe away his tears. 

“Hey, now,” Shigeru whispered. He reached around Kenjirou’s back and laid his hand on his shoulder, drawing him in until Kenjirou’s head rested against his collarbone. Kenjirou didn’t resist. 

Shigeru gently rocked them back and forth as the wind brushed their cheeks, with just the sound of birdsong keeping them company, interrupted only by Kenjirou's muffled sobs. Kenjirou hadn't asked him to talk, so he didn't; his job was to  _ be there _ , to lend Kenjirou some of his strength, to shield him however briefly from the world's furious blows. 

He didn't know how long they sat there. At some point, Kenjirou’s breathing evened out, and when Shigeru offered him his hand, he accepted. Shigeru pressed a kiss on top of Kenjirou's head and heard him make a small contented noise. 

"Better?" Shigeru asked. 

"Not really."

They shared a stumbling, struggling little laugh. 

"I'm scared to go to evening practice," Kenjirou said, so quietly Shigeru almost didn't hear it. "I don't want to see my teammates' faces when they realize I won't play with them in the Spring Tournament next week."

He swallowed loudly, and when he spoke again, his voice wobbled. "They worked so hard.  _ I _ worked so hard. And now I’m just messing everything up.”

“Oh no. No no no.” Shigeru shifted, and Kenjirou sat up straight, clearing his throat. His shoulders hunched as he started building his emotional walls back up, hiding the flameless wick of his heart from the world. 

“Kenjirou.” Shigeru took Kenjirou’s free hand in both of his and squeezed it. “Kenjirou, look at me.”

Kenjirou didn’t move.

“Look at me, please,” Shigeru tried again.

Slowly, Kenjirou turned his head. His teeth worried his bottom lip, and his eyes were lined with new, unshed tears.

So much pain and hurt and guilt in those eyes. A whirlpool of self-blame.

“You are not letting your team down, Kenjirou, I promise.” Shigeru lifted one of his hands to brush a stray tear off Kenjirou’s cheek with his thumb. “This isn’t your fault.”

_ Yes it is yes it is yes it is _ said his eyes. 

“Oh, you,” Shigeru whispered, kissing him on his forehead, willing that heartbreaking frown away. “As much as I hate to admit it, Shiratorizawa is still one of the strongest contenders. If any team will make it to nationals again, it’s you guys. And your team will do it with or without you.”

A few silent seconds ticked by. Then Kenjirou snorted softly. “I don’t know if I should be reassured or offended by that.”

“Oh my god,” Shigeru snickered, a wave of relief washing away vines around his chest. The spark was there, but he knew Kenjirou wasn’t quite convinced. “ _ They. Will. Not. Blame. You _ ,” he pressed, kissing a part of Kenjirou’s sputtering face in between every word. He got a few more kisses in before Kenjirou pushed his face away, grinning. 

“ _ Alright _ , alright, point taken.”

“Good.” Shigeru patted Kenjirou’s cheek, then leaned back as Kenjirou swatted at him. “Because if you beat yourself up about this anymore I will break into your dorm at night to do it for you.”

“That seems counterproductive,” Kenjirou remarked. His voice hid just a slither of joy, but it was there. 

The wick had caught flame.

“ _ Kenjirou _ .” 

“Oh my god, fine.” Kenjirou leaned in and rested his head on Shigeru’s shoulder. Automatically Shigeru’s arm wrapped around Kenjirou’s waist and pulled him closer.

“I could come by and help you with homework, you know,” Shigeru said after a few moments of silence. “To get everything written down, I mean.”

Kenjirou hummed. “Taichi’s dorm is three doors down the hall. His handwriting is nearly illegible, but I could probably bribe him into writing things down for me.”

“That works.” Shigeru trailed a fingertip up and down Kenjirou’s free hand. “Just let me know if you need me, okay?”

“I will,” Kenjirou promised. “It might take me a while since I can only text with my non-dominant hand, but I will.”

Shigeru laughed, squeezing Kenjirou against him, careful not to squish his injured arm too much. The wind darted through the branches of the oak tree, rustling the leaves. The rushing sound reminded Shigeru of the ocean, and the day he took Kenjirou to the beach last summer. They had stayed until long after the sun had set, wrapped up in each other not unlike the way they were now, listening to crashing of the waves. 

“Shigeru.”

“Hmm?”

Kenjirou lifted his head and, with his free hand, used a finger to turn Shigeru’s face until their noses almost touched. Then his hand rested on Shigeru’s cheek as he leaned in closer and kissed Shigeru on the lips. He pulled back in the blink of an eye, but Shigeru’s heart fluttered nonetheless.

“Thank you,” Kenjirou said softly.

Shigeru grinned widely, and extended his neck until his nose booped Kenjirou’s. “Anytime. Now, shall we get some coffee?”

Kenjirou nodded and smiled, the reignited flame in him dancing in his eyes.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> not yahaba coming around with snacks nearly every day anyway because he supports aggressively or he doesn't support at all. not kenjirou having to literally kick him out to get some peace and quiet (lovingly, of course)
> 
> anyway find me on twitter or tumblr blah blah you know the drill


End file.
